| Fluttering |
[Sep. 10th, 2009|11:39 pm]
rejectomorph
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The night breeze's aimless drift, now one direction, now another, mirrors my thoughts. I have the attention span of a gnat these days. I'd prefer to have the attention span of the moth that has been fluttering against my window for the last ten minutes. Though such persistence is undoubtedly foolish, as the misled lepidoptera is guided not by the moon but by the light from my desk lamp, the little bug deserves credit for its determination.
Though it is as ignorant of the consequences of what it is doing as I am of whatever awaits me, at least it has an idea, however wrongheaded, of what it wants to do. Were I to close my drapes, the moth would be released from its enthrallment to my lamp, and it could go about its business, whatever that might be. But what drapes can be closed to end my aimlessness, and who is there to close them? |
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